
S® n6S 



9£ TBG 






Fkancis fl, Cunningham, 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

. ED STATES OF AMERICA. 











I 



I 




SONGS 



THE CATHOLIC YEAR 



FRANCIS A: CUNNINGHAM 










BOSTON 

FLY NN A N D M A H () N V 

[S \XI> 20 ESS! X S n: I- I- I 















Copyright, 

i RANI [8 \. < l NN1NGHAJI, 
1890 



CONTENTS. 



PRELUD] .... 

Songs of the Catholic Fear 
The Epiphany 

Saint Agnes 

Saint Fkancis de Sales 

Thk Purification 

Ash Wednesday . 

Saint Thomas Aquinas 

Saint Patrick 

Good Friday 

Easter .... 

Saint Catherine of Sienn 

May .... 

The Ascension . 

Pentecost 

The Sacred Heart 

Corpus Christ: . 

Saixt AxoysiuS . 

The Precious lii 

saint Mary Magdalen 

Saint Ignatius . 

The Assumption 

Saint Augustine 

The Nativity of Mary 

Saint Jerome 

The Rosary of Years 

Saint Francis A.ssisi 

St. Teresa . 

The Guardian Angel 

All Souls . 

The Immaculate Conception 

Christmas 



in 
12 
l:; 

HI 
17 
in 

•j;; 

•24 
20 

28 

211 

:;i 
::i 

• i - 
. i- > 

38 
30 

In 
-12 
l:; 
Hi 
47 



60 



PRELUDE. 

< >ur Saviour some! imes says : 

■ Thy hearl is heavy' '! Let it be ! 

Dear soul, tin - sorrows I shall share. 
For '<'t hour thou may'st be ft 

From greedy Earth's engrossing care, 
1 f thou wilt r. inir to me." 

( )ni' Sa \ ii >ur often speaks : 
• ( nine, resl heneaf h si 

The grass shall be thy cushh n 
Thy soul shall more tl I be 

In the sil real, 

If thou w ilt come \\ i 

And then our Sa\ iour sa\ s : 
And there, when Peace broods over thee. 

Thy soul shall rise on spirit wings 
To penetrate the mystery 

That lies concealed in holy things. 
If thou wilt com* e." 

( )ur Saviour still invites : 
What part of God's designs are v. 

Wlii ? Whither bound V What fate 

Awaits hereafter, see, 

< >r happy, or unhappy state 
If thou wilt com ne." 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



THE NEW YEAR. 

PAUSE, yet awhile, departing year ! 
We may not let thee steal away, 
Like spirit forms, to memory clear, 

That haunt the dreams of waning day. 

Pause, yet awhile ! and show again 
The visions of the hours gone by 

Or clouded l>y the tears of pain, 
Or beaming bright on Fancy's eye. 

No? Gone forever? Be it so ! 

The good or evil thou hast clone, 
For endless peace or endless woe, 

Is past, and thou art lost or won. 

From looking backward Folly's brow 
With dull remorse is overcast. 

Now life begins. A moment now 
Is worth a million of the past. 



SOWGS OF THE CATHOLIi MM!. 

Thy life was squandered? Idly spent 
Mayhaps in haunts of hideous sin? 
Arise ! 'tis time that thou repent ; 

No in. 

Prom uiii tin- midnight gloom 

The with silent I 

I ! ; ks sadly in its toi 

Wrapt in the snnu.\ iis wind 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



THE EPIPHANY. 

NO eye in Israel opened to the lighl 
That beamed above fr.om stranger star. Alone 
The Gentile followed to the humble throne 
Of Heaven's New Born. His was the future right 
'I'd Israel's honors. Out of mural night 

To daylight led, by Heaven's directing shown, 
The Gentile world should learn to kneel and nun 
That (iml whom Israel banishes from sight. 

Bow down the knee! Thy hoarded treasures bring! 

Not baubles, as these Sages' presents were; 
But give the soul, man's noblest offering, 

Will, intellect and memory. Prefer 
To own him rightly, God and priest and king 

By Heaven's true gold and frankincense and myrrh. 



1° SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



SAINT AGNES. 

AFL< >WEE its fluttering life hath yielded, 
But nut to withering winds or gales; 
Their rough, rude pity mighl have shielded, 

Where gentler human feeling fails. 
A simple flower! The blade in taking 

All of its blushing comeliness, 
Hath left the root in death, awaking 
Hearts that know her hut to bless. 

Who hath not heard thy story stealing 

Through the silence of the soul 
Softly, waking pious fueling, 

Causing' surging thoughts, to roll 
Through mind and heart, of love and pity, 

Pity not so much as love? 
I hou honor of thy cruel citj ! 

Thou angel sent us from above ! 

They come to thee with words of wooing; 

Offer wealth of mint and mart. 
They little know what hand is doing 

Wonder works to win thy heart. 
The angel forms that o'er thee hover 

Make thee to their folly blind ; 
Thou hast a nobler, kindlier lover, 

Jesus, Lover of mankind. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. II 

Thou wilt unt bid thy infant fingers 

( last the incense on the flame ? 
The tyrant : " Modesty still lingers? 

Oct thee to the house <>t' shame ! " 
But this hath harmed thee none! When even 

Sin affronts thee more and more, 
Thou lookest in the lace of Heaven 

Fairer, purer than before. 

Ali, Look ! the flames leap crackling, hissing! 

1 1 < > t V To refreshing breeze they turn, 
Like, loving lips of dear ones kissing 

Where they seemed in scald and burn. 
Ami still she liveth, lovelier seeming 

Through the torture and the strife. 
I mil the sword above her gleaming 

Falls, and sets her free from life. 

Oh, heart to sin and shame a stranger! 

Hand mi mortal hand could gain ! 
Proven in the hour of danger ! 

Rising glorious o'er thy pain, 
Up from the world's unloved carousals 

Peacefully thy spirit soared. 
Thou who couldst scorn the earthly spousals 

Found thy spousals with the Lord. 



12 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



SAINT FRANCIS DE SALES. 

WE may not all be saints'.' He said not so. 
This grand, this simple soul ; but only said. 
That love of God and love of neighbor wed. 
As one great whole, to aid us, here below, 
To merit. Love, and Love alone, can throw 
The aureole of glory o'er the head. 
None is so weak, no sinner yet so dead, 
But in his heart a hope through Love may grow. 

God's love was his to melt the modern mind 
Grown i<'\ cold in wanderings of the night, 

The dark, deep night whose clammy fingers wind 
Around the sinking soul that seeks the light, 

Nor finds it, seeing not the loves that bind 
< )ui- human weakness with the living might. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



1?, 



THE PURIFICATION. 

THE sunlight gleams, at early day, 
Soft, through the Temple's outer gate 
Hushed and deserted. Only a stray. 
I,, lllc . pilgrim seems to pause and wait, 
And he looks about and adown the waj 
As a soul that seeks expected Fate, 
Then enters and kneels to praj . 

The light tails purely, meekly there, 
Softened by surrounding gloom, 

Like a halo upon that snow-white hair 
o!' an age that was ripe for the tomb, 

On an eye with an anxious, hopeful stare 
At each form that enters the room 
From the city ripe for its doom. 

The light -rows dun from the enter door 
As a worshipper enters in and kneels, 

And her anxious glance behind, before, 
Expectant hopefulness reveals ; 

Each aged heart will silent pour 
In Heaven's ear the hope it feels 
That from human ken it seals. 



14 SOJVGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

And the day still young is deserted, hushed. 

Again the shadow falls, and shows 
A maid whose young cheek rose-red (lushed 

For the burden she bears. Her arms enclose, 
A babe and two young dovelets crushed 

In her anxious grasp, as she goes 

Where the light on the altar glows. 

She is purified who hath known no stain ; 

She turns away with a murmured prayer, 
And the rays of a strange, bright sunlight rain 

About her. till she seems more fair 
With her Babe divine Alone the twain 

Will pass, and leave the worshippers there. 

Going back to the world of care. 

But Simeon rises and takes the Child, 

Tears like dew on the aged oak 
Filling his furrowed cheek, and his mild, 

Soft eye grows blight, and his rough hands stroke 
The sunny hair, and his Lips a wild, 

Sweet anthem chant through tears that choke 

A voice that the long years broke. 

And the aged woman that, fourscore years, 

Looked forth to see this blessed sight. 
Breaks into song prophetic, fears 

And hopes commingling. Out of the light 
Of heaven a sign of hope appears, 

A sign of ruin too, to blight 

Or bless, for wrong or right. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAS. 15 

And the calm light Leaves the Temple's door, 

As mother and child depart. The gloom, 
.More gloomy now than ever before, 

Comes out of the shadows, and the bloom 
( >f early <la\ fades more and more. 

And sinful souls Hit through that room 

Like presages of doom. 



16 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



ASH WEDNESDAY. 

THE revels cease. The carnival is done. 
Out of the halls of sin and dissipation 
The sated passions steal, and one by one 
Seek slumbering rest. The time is now begun 
When mirth must yield to brooding Meditation. 

Hast thou bethought thyself, whose eye dilates, 

Whose blood throbs red and rich with wondrous beauty, 
The time is nigh when Death's unpitying gates 

Shall ope to prison thee with Him who waits 
To judge thy faithfulness to God and Duty? 



Pause then awhile! His soul is truly blessed 

Who from his cheek the tear of penance dashes, 
Thinks of his soul in prison garment dressed. 
The dust, his body's birth and final rest, 
And strews his head with penitential ashes. 



HONGS OF THE CATHOLIC TEAS. 17 



SAINT THOMAS AQUINAS. 



WE walked the vast cathedral aisles. Around, 
Above, below we heard its wall resound 
The note of grandest harmony, attuned 
To Gothic art, where arch with arch communed 
To tell its tale of labor and of love. 

Mosaic-lined from floor to high above, 
Along the vaulted ceiling and adown 
The clustered columning, each tiny stone 
Important where it was, each little square 
Contributing to all the whole its share, 
Its perfect note to transept, nave and apse, 
Where traceried reredoes seem to lapse 

Each into each, and mullioned windows threw 
Across the aisles lone' bars of sombre hue. 
And all the mighty structure seemed to shiver 
Deep to its heart and felt its great walls quiver 
Like human bosom swelling, as the sound 
Of deep, lull organs filled the space around, 
And hushed, transfixed by all we heard and saw, 
Bowed we our heads and prayed in reverent awe. 



18 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

II. 

But where is the fane sublime, 

Cathedral Gothic or Roman, 
Fashioned of stone and lime 

And the labor of burgher and yeoman, 
The fairest that art can design 

From the wealth of the prince and nation, 
Compared with a work like thine, 

Thy Summa of God's inspiration? 

in. 

We love to hear thy blessed story told, 
Thomas of Aquin, circling in our thought 

The triune God whose life majestic rolled 
Through forms analogous by Fancy caught 
Within the eye, as mountain forms are wrought 

Within the compass of the artist's mould. 

Then venturing forth upon the path d 
Of God's essential self to other things, 

We Led our fretful fancy to reflect 

The vaulted heavens, the harmony that sings 
Through God's creative Providence, that springs 

From Love that lives to fashion and protect. 

But in the Consummation, thoughts we bore 
In Contemplation vanished, nor afar 

Their passage winged from heavenly shore to shore, 
But tarried, where the guiding of a star 
Betrayed a glimpse, through cavern door ajar, 

Of God and Man made one forevermore. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 1!» 



SAINT PATRICK. 

WHAT gave the bard to Erin? Song ! 
The harp, the pipe and the dance! 
We trample the meadows; the mountains we throng; 
Our melodies shorten the nights that are long; 
The beauties of day they enhance. 

What gave the monarch to Erin? War! 

To ravish the people's right. 
Ah. fearful the ruin that country - 
When her chiefs forgot what they struggled lor! 

Death was the guerdon of might. 

What gave the schoolmen to Erin ? Fame ! 

A breath that was wafted o'er. 
From Erin's const, to bear her name 
To distant Frame or Rome; but it came 

Back again to die on her shore. 

What gave the merchant to Erin 7 Gold ! 

Her markets were filled to the doors : 
But the merchants squandered her riches untold : 
Whal they hoarded theylosl ; what they purchased they sold 

Ami Trade now shrinks from her' shores. 



20 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

The Patron gave Erin her faith in God. 

To Erin ? Aye, to the world. 
To flourish anew like the prophet's rod, 
To flower on the breast of a foreign sod, 

Wherever her flag is unfurled. 






SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAH. l! 1 



THE ANNUNCIATION. 

ROUND thee the silence closes. 
No interlude 

Breaks on the solemn solitude. 
The studied poses 
Of prophet and king in the niches, 
The lung' dark lines. 
Where column with column entwines 
In untold riches, 

Are dumb as the shadows stealing 
( >ver them all 
In the Temple's great hall, 
Where thou art kneeling. 

< >ut of the gloom of the dawning 

A brightness grew . 

And around about thee threw 
The glory of morning. 
An angel of startling beauty 

Appeared to stand. 

With reverent face and clasped hand, 
A minister of duty. 
To give thee glorious greeting: 

" Thou art the one 

To bear thy God's begotten Son 
For the world's entreating .' " 



'22 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

Silent and calmly kneeling, 

Thou nearest not 

Or hast perhaps forgot, 
The angel stands appealing. 
Oh, were the message given 

To some proud queen ! 

Then would the world have seen 
The majesty of Heaven 
Enkindled in her every gesture! 

Thou lookesl down, 

And meekness hides the rising frown 
As in a vesture. 

A prophetess would lake the glory, 

And loud and long. 

Would publish in exultant song 
The wondrous story. 
Thy cheek no glory shows, but blushes 

< >f puzzled shame. 

That Heaven should greet thy humble name 
But even as rushes 
The modest blood thy face suffusing, 

As humble still, 

Thou'rt handmaid of the Lord. Thy will 

Shall be His choosing. 



SDXUS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAH. 28 



GOOD FRIDAY. 

NO theme for words ! 
( 'lirisl alone can speak, 
In riven cave and \ awning grave 
And hills thai rock and creak, 
In pain thai racks the cords 
Of Nature. Words are weak. 
Let Christ the fact attest ! 
Consummatum est .' 

The work is done ! 
Ye cannot harm Him more. 
His head at rest hangs on His breasl : 
His agony is o'er. 
His victory won, 
That opened Heaven's door 

Ti ■ the \\ eary and oppressed. 

Consummatum est '. 

Back to your lanes and streets, 
Who have wrought this fearful thing, 
And leave Him here with hearts that are dear ! 
Let riven Nature sing 
A requiem that repeats 
I n notes of love and fear 
The anthem of His rest ! 
Consummatum est ! 



•24 SONGS (IF THE CATHOLIC YE Ah'. 



EASTER. 

A GOLDEN glory gleams upon the brow 
Of morning mingling mellow tints with fire 
< >f flashing brilliancy, with flames aglow 
In beauty, beaming on the funeral pyre 
Of night, and all the waking hills around 
With glorious note of victory resound: 
Surrexit, non est hie! 

Arisen! Christ has risen! Whose the tongue 

To flash the tale to all the waking world? 

Scarce had the smoke of Jewish morning curled 
Above the city's housetops, then there rung 

Down through the stricken town's most crowded street, 

The voice of woman resonant and sweet, 
Surrexit, non est hie ! 

A woman, Mary! Not thai favored soul 

That wrought the resurrection of our race. 

The stainless-horn, the res irvoir of grace. 
She sileni hoped. Another's tongue should roll 

The gladdening echo. Penance went before. 

Her lips the burden of his triumph bore, 
Surrexit, mm eat hie.' 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. _'.', 

A woman! Magdalen rose ere the morn 
Flashed on the Cross of Golgotha, and sped 
To meet Him anxious till the angel said : 

" lie is not here." The victory was won. 

And Penance sang the pawn first, and stirred 
Creation by the echo of the word, 

Surrexit, non est hie! 



26 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC TEAR. 



SAINT CATHERINE OF SIENNA. 

FA IK are the fields of A\ ignon 
And verdant mountains looking down 
On rural cot or bustling town ; 

But higher, fairer still 
Its palace rising like a dream 
Amid a wealth of wood and stream, 
Whose cross-topped towers and steeples gleam 
Like stars upon the hill. 

Hut Sorrow shares tin' Pontiffs throne, 
Ami whispers tidings, with a groan. 

Of ties that soon must part. 
Florence, Romagna, .Milan rise 
In armed revolt to hurst the las 

That bind them to his heart. 

A cloud is on the Pontiff's brow, 
The hoary head that learned to bow 
To wasting age, more weary now. 

I hi iio.s on his breasl ; 
For prince and priest and cardinal. 
To council called, arc powerless all 
To aid him. Round him hangs a pall 

( >f anguish and unrest. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

Who is it comes in humble guise. 
Cowled like a monk from heel to eyes? 
A nun from some Italian cell 
Enters the council hall to tell 
To pope and cardinal a plan 
To bring the union back again. 

l'ale is her cheek and thin and spare. 
Her hidden e\ es and modesl air, 
Fitter for scenes of praise or prayer, 
Hespeak a soul thai oft hath soared 
'I'n close communion with the Lord. 

My child," the pontiff said, and laid 
His sacred blessing mi the maid : 
• Return once more in Italy. 
Charged with Religion's embassy ; 
Subdue the \va rring factions tl 
Rather with pleading and with prayei 
Than carnage or t he latter sword, 
And 1 lea Yell enrich thee with reward." 
The saint went forth with courage fired 
Upon her mission heaven inspired, 
And raised the pontiff's banner high 
Over the lands of ftaly, 
And all the angered people came, 
In admiral ion of her ua me, 
To greet her. and tn sin i\\ once nn ire 
That all the land, from shore tn shore. 

Would still to love 1 dut\ (ding. 

Proud of their sainted Pontiff King. 



28 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



w 



MAY. 

I II LI'', yet the year in maiden days rejoices-, 
And blooms from April mists, fresh, young am 
Unsullied yet by Summer's feverish air, 

Nor choked by soft luxuriance, heavenly voices 

Proclaim the union of a million choices 
For patron of the May united where 
The form of Mary bends in holy player, 

And earth re-echoes in exultant noises. 

For Spring is purity, and May the season 
Fittest for Purity to live and reign, 
When Nature yet is innocent of stain, 

Of touch unclean, of .lime's deceitful treason. 
If Heaven's queen, the pure, is chosen then. 

As Queen of May. be this sufficient reason. 



SUNOS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 29 



THE ASCENSION. 



A MINUTE may a life comprise ; 
For thought is swift. 
Years, in a moment's time, may drift 
Before our eyes. 



What moment could comprise the 

Thai end to-day, 

Not by the body's death, the way 
( >f mortal tears. 

But as an eagle soars alone 
To kindred skies. 
Freed from the strain of earthly ties 

That held him down ? 

A life whose every moment told 

Eternities, 

Filled witli its several mysteries; 

A life that rolled. 

Majestic, through the scanty years, - 
A God on earl h. 
Too weary for its shallow mirth, 

A man of tears. 



30 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

Now is the pain forgotteii all. 

No lingering grief 

Pleads to the Father for relief. 
Only the call 

Of longing Love, that bids Mini rise 

From loved ones \ et, 

Waiting in hope on Olivet, 
( 'an dim his e\ es : 
Fur Time is dead, and Sin and Pain 

I la\c gone to rest. 

Eternal joy, so long suppressed, 
shall I i ve again. 

•■ Wh\ do ye weep? Why anxious glance 
Into the deeps 

Where God his ceaseless vigil keeps? 
Is it perchance, 

N e men of ' ialilee. ill fear 

That all is o'er, 
That guilty earth shall see no more 

A love sci dear ? 

"This Jesus, rising from your eyes, 
Ve holy men. 

Shall come, as he hath said, again, 
As ye have seen him rise." 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 3 1 



PENTECOST. 

WHAT heart sci brave? What love so strong 
To cast the venture of their lives 
Where angry public passion strives 
'J'ii kill the Right and save the Wrong? 

Better to lie in nerveless sloth. 

Ami wait the event of sure success, 
Than gain a moment's happiness. 

Thy friend's anil thine, by wasting both. 

Bet ter to wait as waited thej . 

The chosen twelve, in safe repose. 

Till Heaven its choosing might disclose. 
Better than night the light of day. 

So sat they praying trembling all, 
As hoping Heaven or fearing doom, 
The shadows of the Upper Room 

Seeming like spectres on the wall. 

The sounds of traffic on the street 
Seemed like the cries of angry .lews 
Calling for blood. They could not chouse 

But feel their hearts with terror beat. 



32 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

But Mary's eyes are calm and clear 

In expeotation of the hour; 

Her faith too sure, too greajt her power, 
To feel the pall of haunting fear. 

And as the silence deeper grew. 

And prayer went up from every heart. 
Fear from their souls began to part, 

And dusty Hope sprang up anew. 

And like the sound of hurricane 
Sweeping adown the mountain side, 
And like the roaring storms that ride 

Raging across the mighty main, 

The winds rushed down like sound of doom, 
The suppliant's heads in prayer were reared 
Over them all a light appeared, 

Filling the vastness of the room. 

A nionieiii m suspense it hung, 
A shapeless mass of living light, 
Then clearly parting gleamed as bright 

On every head a fiery tongue. 

Where is the fear, the trembling now? 
billed with a courage Heaven alone 
Could shatter, let the worst lie known 

<>! angiA .lew with knitted brow. 

Of Pharisee or canting Scribe 

Or Roman, dare they now the worst! 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 33 

What though their souls be held accursed, 
They court the sneer, they Love the jibe. 

The light of martyrdom makes death 

A triumph rare. The truth and right 

Are vested with eternal might 
When Faith absorbs their dying breath. 

They arc not orphans. At the mosl 

The Church is widowed of her spouse, 

But One still guards the Holy House 
Brooding o'er all, the Holy Ghost. 



3 1 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC TEAR. 



THE SACKED HEART. 

JESUS is all God. Even the earthly part 
Due adoration claims as that bestowed 
I pon the personality that glowed 
In Light eternal, ere the matchless art 
Of that great Architect designed this Heart 
Combining God and .Man. out of which (lowed 
That Love, to whose designs mankind has owed 
That out of Sin to Cod its path might start, 

What time it seemed most fallen. Never yet 
Was invitation sweeter than lie gives 

In silent visions deigned to Marga 

Nor Faith more sure than Jesus" Heart supplies, 
Nor Hope mole bright than takes from Him to use. 

Nor loving Charity that longer lives. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR, 35 



CORPUS CHRISTI. 

FLOWERS ? Ah, yes, for a bridal feast. 
W'liu weds'/ All, one thou countest least 
Among thy friends for years arc past 
Since thou wert down to see him last. 
His dwelling place ? If thou but follow 
The road that leads down through the hollow 
Between the hills, thou'lt find the place. 
Sec w here the load and river trace 
Their course beside the straggling town. 
Just where 1 1 it - \ part, and one goes down 
To meet the sea : the other still 
Winding its way around the hill, 
i here lives the bridegroom, ami the bride 
Will soon be standing at his side. 

Flowers for a bridal least '! ah. yes ! 
And thou wilt come ! The happiness 

Belongs as well to thee to share 

If to be present thou but care. 
There, too, thy old-time. Friend invi 

Nay, frown not! These I wis tre sights 
Loner besmeared to thine eves ; but now 
Thy t ime is come, and i lion shall l^ >v 
As reverent as the fa iihful there, 
And murmur somewhat of a prayer, 



36 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

And dash the moisture from thine eye 
As tile procession passes liv. 

Flowers for a bridal feast to-day ? 

Christ is the bridegroom, and His way 

I go to strew with summer leaves. 

Ah, how the Heart of Jesus grieves 

That thou art heedless! Come with me ! 

Only an hour and thou shall see 

How much He dares for love of men. 

Yes? God he thanked! Come, brother, then! 

Give nie flowers of fairest line. 
Gentle white and modest blue, 
And rose and heliotrope, and set. 
Just here and there, a mignonette. 
Let tulip, pink and lily show 
The fairest of their kind that grow. 
It may he costly, yet I fear 
'Twill be too cheap for one so dear. 

Now. brother, take the broken flowers 
Ami cast them down in sparkling showers 
Alone- the aisles, a fragrant spray 
Of perfume lor the Master's way. 



See how lie comes, a throned king! 
Hark how the vaulted ceilings ring 
In jnliilant song! ami mark the long 
Processions! How the people throne. 
And priests around the King are ranged ! 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAH. 

Ali, brother! now thy heart is changed ! 
Now weep ! Now kneel ! nor leave the place 
Till Christ hath scaled thy hearl with grace. 
Now is thy long estrangement ceased. 
This is indeed thy bridal feast. 



38 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



ST. ALOYSIUS. 

THE touch that brings the withering to the leaf, 
To blot tin- beauty of the flower, 
The cold north wind that kills the budding sheaf, 

Hath not disturbed this holy bower. 
The three flowers breathed the freshening breath of 

Snatched from the colder northern clime 
To bloom in (tod's eternal city, face 
To face with all the flowers of time. 

The firm, uncompromising sinlessness 

< M Aloysius : all the mild 
Humility of Berchmans, and not less 

Sweet love of Stanislaus, the child. 
A lily for the altar of our < rod, 

A violet budding at the Shrine, 
A fair white rose, a garland round the Rod 

<H Aaron, breatliing prayer divine. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 39 



THE PRECIOUS BLOOD. 

Aid, men must bear the saving batli 
Poured in baptismal stream 
Upon the soul, that the treasured wrath 

( )f God may seem 
Forgotten. Thy baptismal flood, 
() Jesus, was thy streaming blood, 
Not for a moment flowing, 
But ever strewing 
The path thy poor tired feet had tried 
From birth until thy sad heart died. 

That Precious Blood still flows 
Upon the path thou treadest in the heart 

The watered soil a harvest grows 
1 1 men but deign to do their little part. 



40 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAH. 



ST. MARY MAGDALEN. 



THE angels veiled their faces, looking down 
Upon thee, Magdalen, whom Pleasure's chain 
Bound as a slave, and tripping to the strain 
Of luscious music, In mured with the crown 
Of hideous Sin; hut when the sneer and frown 
Of outraged Justice took the place again 
Of courting Adulation, all in vain 
Thy bosom Imped its shame in rest to drown. 

Art thou then weary? Take thy treasured oils, 
And pour them out upon His holy feet ; 

lie will release thy spirit from the toils 

Of grinding Sin. See how lie bends to erect. 

To love thee, perfumed by the spoils 
Of Penance, odorous, rich and sweet ! 



n. 

We dare not murmur. Whose the tongue to blame, 
When all are fallen ? Not the publican. 
Blame thou thyself unhappy man ! 

Shall Pharisee the damning sentence frame? 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 41 

Look td thyself, proud man ! thou other name 
For secret sinning! Cry not thou the ban 

Upon her, lest a Christ thy heart may scan, 
And write in sand the record of tin shame! 

Poor child of Sin ! Are we not sinners all? 

That one should pity thee, nor yet deplore 
His own deep ulcer? Friend of them that fall. 

Make Magdalens of us; and bending o'er 
Our shamed confessions, hear us when we call 

On thee, and bid US go and sin no more. 



42 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



SAINT IGNATIUS. 

WHY fear the rising storm ? Did ever cloud 
More dismal menace cast upon the sky 
Of Mother Church than that which met the eye 
Of Europe when the spirit dark and proud 
Of Luther sounded on the tempest loud 

And dangerous ? Yet our God stood watchful by 
And saved the < hurch he promised should not die, 
Upheld by Grace with Godlike strength endowed. 

Were Pampeluna, aye and all proud Spain 
Forgotten thou would'st still recall the age 

Of God-appointed saints, the Church's- gain 
From Luther's loss, the noble heritage 

Of centuries. — whose lives erase the stain 
Left by the traitor on her history's page. 



S OJVGS OF THE CATHOLIC 1" E A.R, I ■ '■ 



THE ASSUMPTION. 

A GREAT King Lived in haunts of sin and death 
And pining poverty, and breathed the breath 
Of foul disease, and listened to the cries 
Of victims writhing in their agonies. 

An exile self-condemned, his Heart of hearts 
Burned with a pain that only Love imparts 
To him that mourns the children erring Pride 
Lured by its smiling falseness from his side. 
Contented he in foreign lands to roam 
If he but bring the erring children home. 

Out of the land of sin and death and crime 
He passed away unsullied by the slime, 
That stained all others, all save her alone, 
The Mother of the King. The work was dune. 

The children <■ again restored to power, 

And only she was left to bide her hour. 



II. 

Who is it comes from the desert, 
Out of the desert of death, 

I. 'aning upon her Beloved, 
Yielding an o Lorous breath, 



44 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

Breathing of myrrh and of honey 
And spices of infinite worth'.-' 

Who is it comes from the desert 
Out of the desert of earth ? 

Rise, ye eternal portals 

Guarding the King's domain ! 
Princes and priests of the Palace 

Lift up j our eyes again ! 
Arise, for the Queen returning! 

Greet her with welcome song! 
Revels of angels shall greet her 

Who hath looked to this hour so lone. 



m. 

The king that honors 7iot the womh 

That bore him is no king. 

Better she lived in peace to sing 
A canticle of doom, 

The (loom of those that live and die, 
And dying leave no fruit 
To hear their image! Better mute 

Than speaking speak a lie. 

The King shall think no earthly good 
So precious, to be prized 
As that his young eyes idolized, 

I lis Mother's motherhood. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 45 

The King shall think no love too dear, 
No honor yet too greal 
For her who shared his humble state; 

Mourned with Him tear for tear. 

The King shall loose the golden gates 

That guard the halls of morning, 

Ami send I lis angels forth with warning 
To tell her that I [e waits. 

lie wails with honor, love and power 
To crow ii her virgin queen. 
Not even Heaven such hliss hath seen 

As tills this blessed hour. 



46 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 

OH soul that seeks the light, inarch on ! 
Thy seeking in itself will lead. 
Thou canst not stray, though one by one 

The helps that urged thy anxious speed 
Prove phantoms. Onward! At the close 
The light will stream across the gloom. 
Each hour thai darkens darker grows. 
Press mi ! Delay will be thy doom. 

Like him. whose star more glorious gleams 

On shrine and altar for the quest 
That led him wading through the streams 

( )f foul untruth to learn the besl ; 
I. earn we like him! Ah, if we shrink 

From peril lie will give us strength. 
The soul that seeks can never sink. 

For God will give him light at length. 

O O O 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAH. 47 



THE NATIVITY OF MARY. 

I SAW the spectacle sublime 
Of glorious morning 

< »ut of lowering darkness dawning 

Like beauty born of crime. 
The darkness like a shroud is spread 

Across the silent earth. 
No sunny smile ; no laughing mirth ; 

But all is sad and dead. 
A veil of shade on flower and tree ; 

No guiding light is seen, 

Save here and there the glimmering sheen 
Of stars that fitfully, 

As jewels set upon the brow 
Of dusky night, would gleam 
One moment, till the sparkling beam 

In the darkest depths would drown. 

Then, in the very darkest hour, 
The faintest tinge of light 

< nines shivering through the gloom of night, 

Like the feeble pulse whose power 
In dead hands wakes returning mot inn, 

And the great earth feels the shock 
Down to her deepest heart of rock, 

Down to the depths of ocean ; 



48 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

And slowly hill by liill appears, 
I ' [ion the vision breaking, 
Like new created forms awaking 

From the heavy sleep of years. 

A belt of light across the east ; 
The dawn is gathering 

Its glorious lines, only to fling 1 

Their radiance thrice increased 
Along the ridge of western hills. 

A moment hangs the spell 
Broke by the sound of morning hell. 

As morning thrills, 
Thrills through the air: for night is done; 

Night with its gloom and strife. 
And into the glorious light of life 

Springs up the living sun. 

Time was when shrouding midnight hung 

A pall of blackest gloom, 
A boding shadow of death and doom. 

Over the nations flung ; 
And men grew blind, and crept and groped 

In haunts of hideous sin, 
And died in striving to begin, 

Despairing ere they hoped. 

For men had strayed from the dazzling blaze 

Of God's eternal day, 
And wandered more and more away 

Into the darker ways 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 49 

Where star nor moon no longer shone ; 

But chill, cold sin instead 
Crept in their souls, and still and dead, 

They perished one by one. 
No hope to light the angry night, 

No faith tn steer their course. 
No love tn give them strength and force, 

Bill only fear and fright ; 
The spectral forms of prophecy 

Across their pathway Hitting, 
The demon of Injustice sitting 

Upon the throne of Right. 
But when the brow of God must seemed 

Shrouded in brooding anger, 
When earth seemed deafened by the clangor 

Of the hordes of Hell that streamed 
Out uf Rome's eternal gale. 

And swarmed upon the world. 

And smoke from sacrifices curled, 
From altars of Sin and Hate; 
I'n the darkest hour blazed forth a star 

Upon the brow of Heaven, 

A message to the nations given, 
That light was not too far 
To brighten hope : and day by day 

Brightened the star apace, 

And men began again to truce 
The ever swelling ray 
Of purest light that grew and grew 

Till Night had disappeared, 



50 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

And (mi of the star the great sun reared 
Its presence to the view. 

Star of the morning of our souls, 
Mary, the glorious fame, 
Announcing to the world thy name, 

Along the ages mils 

A paeon of glorious victory, 
The message of a king, 
The sound of caul icles i liat ring 

< >ver the land and sea. 

The rising sun, the dawn of day, 
The coming of the ClirLst. 
A hope too precious to he juiced. 

Bliss passing not aw aj , 

Hut lingering with the noonday glare 
( >f faith and hope and lo\ , . 
The answer whispered from above 

To persevering prayer. 

Not less to us a star of daw n 
Piercing the chilly air 
And darksome midnight of despair, 

And telling of our dawn. 

To faith and hope and love and grace ! 
Oh, light us on our way, 
That we may set' at break of day 

The Vision face to face ! 



SO^GS i iF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. , O 1 



SAINT JEROME. 

SAINT of the solitudes ! the brush of art 
Is yet untutored till it strives to give 
The canvas master-lines with power to live, 
And counts it triumph, if Lis skill impart 
Thy portrait to the world. Oh, in the heart 
We need no painted effigy to tell 
The wonders of thy solitary cell ! 

A hero thou ' We may not heroes he, 
But imitate the deeds by heroes done. 
Better to have the battle bravely \\ 

Though others point the way, than sir 

Our self-conceit despoiled of victory 

Because we feared to imitate. No shame 
To weave our laurels from another's fame. 

Set then the solitude within thy soul. 

Tin' skull of penance and the cross of pain. 

The lion of unflinching truth, the gain 
Of freedom and of prayer, the daily dole 
Of abstinence. These will alone enroll 

Thy name among the names whose priceless worth 

Eclipses all the glory of the earth. 



52 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



THE ROSARY OF YEARS. 

LIKE beads that slip the fingers' grasp, 
The years go by : 
A moment lingering in the clasj) 
( >f feeble hands, to pass 
Into the countless mass 
Of them that cry 
( )ul of the past that is no mure. 
Our restless fingers wander o'er 
The present hour that sunn must cede 
Its life to some succeeding 1 bead. 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 53 



SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSIST. 

HE honored Poverty as some sweet saint 
Pleading to God and pleading with sin-cos. 
He loved her as the lover the caress 
Of lady love, and called her, queen. — His plaint 
Poured out unceasingly, without restraint 
Of ardent words. He knew no weariness. 
Hut ever sang, that Poverty might Mess 
His heart, lest in the fight with sin it faint. 

Sweet Poverty, we may not feel thy worth, 

Clad iii thy garb the world knows but to hate; 

Hut God hath chosen thee. How (lien can earth 
Insult a modesty that Christ would mate 

With Mary, hinding round the humble hearth 
<)! Nazareth, love of thy lowly stale .' 



54 tOXGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



SAINT TERESA. 

THE world has need of souls that live to pray. 
The turmoil ceaseless eating out the hearl 
Of men, the hurrying commerce of the mart. 
The rush of trade impatient of delay 
Would onlv roll the starving soul awaj 
From God if no one set his life apart 
To plead with God for men. And such thou art, 
Teresa, pleading for souls gone astray. 

Would we could leave the mad world at the door. 
Passing the hour communing, heaven inspired 

With Jesus, meditating o'er and o'er 
The awful mysteries of God, and fired 

With zeal like thine! If we but kneel to pour 
Our sinful tears, our fainting hearts grow tired. 



SOXGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 55 



THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 

WHEN Conscience speaks of righl or wronj 
Not all alone our nature speaks; 
A voice nunc sweet, a hand mure strong 

Our downward inclination breaks, 

And leads us to the path of duty. 

Lured by the shadow of the beauty 
Of God anil truth and faith ami grace, 
Lures us away from the maddening race 

Km' lesser things, and points with rod 

I iiw avering the path to God. 



56 SONGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



ALL SOILS. 

Ol"I" of the depths, Lord, I cried to thee. 
Oh hearken, Lord, my humble prayer ! 
< Hi. let thy listening car attentive be 

To hear the wail of my despair ! 
It' thou wilt note our wanderings, Lord, 

lliiw can we bear thy angry mood? 
Thou art the fount of mercy ! for thy word 

1 held tn thee, great Lord, and good ! 
My spirit hue thj law; my spirit hoped 

In thee, Lord. From watchful morn 
liven until night my spirit groped 

Through dark to thee. For thou art born 
The Lord of Mercy, potent to redeem, 

And thou wilt sure redeem the race 
Of Israel, though her children's sins may seem 

A door to shut them out Erom grace. 



SONGS HF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 



THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION. 

I LOOKED, and over heaven a sign wn> ;p 
A wom -d with the shining sua. 

Beneath her feel the 
A crown of t we 

Who was this oil' 
This woman ? I lark ! again the 
And hi ! tn tier .1 Son is b liild 

To rule all nations with 
The queen was Mary, pure and me 
That stainles 

Time was when Nal ure ri 

( >f ] perfect bea m \ . perfect li 
"Twixf soul and body. All that hurl 

Was but a dream of what 
A perfect 1 11 igin, a destined In 

< )f all a lull eternity might a 
A perfect freedom and a si rength 

Willi all temptations, and a 

It was a 1 ime, alas ' 

When I 'eat h was ushered in. and 
Was poisoned b\ tlie sin, thai as a friend. 

First breathed ol 



SOWQS OF THE CATHOI.li: YEAR. 

Thrust iii the dart that killed, and left the soul 
Disfigured past recall, and all of good 

And gracious dead. The soul, men's nobler part 
And reason hence were slaves of flesh and blood. 

V>t for the fallen only. All the rai e 

Was signed in sin. bearing the damning stain 
Of i ii Inniit'enee. naught could replace 

Unless that God should bring it back again. 
Great was the love that from the Fount of Love 

Streamed outward to despair, and sent a raj 
Of purest hope descending from above, 

Changing the night of shame to glorious day. 

Eternal Love, in love of erring flesh, 

Took on the form of man. and thus once more 
The earth beheld an innocence as fresh 

In sweel integrity as beamed before 
Upon a stainless Eve. and man arose 

Again to something of Ids former state. 
Earth could one stainless soul again disclose 

Unnumbered in the universal fate. 

Why should it not be thus'.' Can purest Grace 

From tainted wretchedness and sin arise? 
Better our God hi ted our deep disgrace, 

Better a human race that cursed lies 
In banishment and misery and pain, 

Than God should lift the ban from us aua\ 
By taking to himself the fouling stain 

That makes the soul the under spirits' prey, 



SONGS OF THE CATHOLH YEAR. •>•) 

Better the flesh He took, the gentle b\< 

He drank were innocenl of shame and 
Better his chosen Mother stainless stood 

Amid tlic fonl corruption thai had been ! 

\Vh\ should il nut be thus '. < Hi, God! what hair 

Can still refuse to love whom thou did'st Love? 
Till they can stand besid 

Till the} ha\ e candor spol less as 
« >f snow \ whiteness : aj e ! till the) can dare 

Regard Thee , noi blush for sit 

Till the) are ■ let tliem pause and I* 

A thing the) ha ve not ] na inc. 

Mother of God ! I is sad 

We call on t bee to bear our pi «>r pel il 
To Love incarnate, waiting, hoping, glad 

One sniil has power to execute our mission. 



GO SO.XGS OF THE CATHOLTC YEAR. 



CHRISTMAS. 

AIT changing natures have tin 
Premonitory . heralding 
Then tl ness. Comets fling 

eping lurid lines 
Aero ; . Nal ure groans 

ii birth, 
And htened earth 

In ii iguish throbs and i i 

lend her mighty breast. 
Who has noi 

fall 
mil, 
\h<l heard the hoarse winds shriek and rave 
11 '! \\\. I is done 

iky. 
daw n. w is nigh : 

of the sun. 

i\\ 

W'lici' 

Hoh I Sunk 

That held tin E the Law ; 



61 

■ I' Kane bending low 
Beneal li the saci ifieial knife. 
Of David risking all his life 
To sa \ ■(■ n race from overl Irrow : 
Figures of N ia h's sa\ ing zeal, 
( >f Abraham and Jacob, Lol 
Vnd Samuel : all who be 
The fi e of Israel's eommi i 

es i if Josepli's king] \ | i< >\\ er, 
Melchisedech, the primal priest, 
I'retiguring the sacred Fi 
( lirist left the a ! ■ 
Of (i io and Daniel 

< >r \ ii lini, prophet, priest or king, 
W'bai ai e they all but signs t hal - 

i if ( "lirist wit h Satan's fall ' 

When Time was young upon the earth 

I iri i[ihets sang t he Sa \ iour's birt h : 
A woman shall cot 

i, Eman lie], the heir 
Of God.— " A thousand sounding names 

I lis Divinity procln ims. 
And Dani 
S] lake w ords of promise t hal re\ ea I 

he seventy u eeks 
( >i' \ ears irk ! t he S\ bil a pi 

In (j 

Thi' land, t he na) ion and 1 la- la an 
Si una! from t la- 1 I the rail b 



62 SOXGS OF THE CATHOLIC YEAR. 

Kings rale by wealth and power and gaudy show. 
The armaments of land and sea, like walls 
Surround them, and their haughty mien appalls 

The cringing subject. Rebel bl I musl flow 

To irrigate their harvests. I. ash and 

And bitter word are theirs in all the balls 
Of Justice where the tyrants' will forestalls 

The claims of Right. Their weal the subjects' woe. 

Christ is a king, — a king by tight di 
A king of power and wealth, magni 

And all that makes men His 1 lie desi 

i framed the Heavens from out the darkness de 

( >f nothingness. A monarch, yet bet 
And merciful to an offem 

Oh, \\ I L why the gate 

Of p; ill and : 

Is In his well 

A I thus ? Lo ! how He 

A blocking. Why '.' For Herod hairs 

The trni Ah, truly is it bard 

Thai Wrong should revel when- the Right, ill-stni 
Is 1 o lap the refu 

Chrisl i : but not a king 

Better i : the ox and ass : 

Better i i- His bones should In 

Thai homes like theirs. I !,■ feels, 

rin I Werty . Vei do! ise 

in smile and let thei 



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